A Brilliant White Against the Black
by conundrum18
Summary: Regulus Black was finally better than his brother in one regard. He was only fifteen, and he was about to become the youngest Death Eater ever. Unless Sirius can stop him... ONESHOT, rated for language and a bit of violence


**A/N: This one-shot came to me pretty randomly, I must admit. I feel a tad guilty for writing it, considering how behind I am on posting my other story (it will be up this weekend, I swear), but you can't really stop inspiration. I know this is probably loaded with inaccuracies, like the boys' ages or when Regulus joined the Death Eaters, but I'm just going to consider this my version of the Black boys' story. Rated T for language and a smidge of violence.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own them. Naturally, I wish I did.**

Regulus Black strode down the hallway towards the Great Hall with a bit more swagger than usual, and that was saying something by his standards. Granted, he had only picked up the stride by meticulously watching his older brother for years, but that was beside the point. He now finally had something over his brother.

Sirius was always the smart one. It didn't matter if his parents acknowledged it; everyone knew it was true. He was brilliant and funny and charismatic, and you honestly couldn't help but love him. Or fall in love with him, depending on your gender or…preference. Sirius was roguishly handsome without so much as lifting a finger; he managed to look like the coolest kid in Hogwarts just by gracing the place with his presence. It had always been harder for Regulus, and although his brother had always been a sort of mentor to him, he had never truly gotten over the feeling of bitterness he got when he saw how easy everything was for the Golden Boy. But now, finally, FINALLY he had done something that Sirius never would. His parents might be forced to respect his brother because he was the heir to the family fortune, but Regulus had achieved a goal- reached a milestone, that his mother and father would no doubt fall all over themselves to congratulate him for.

Regulus flexed his fingers, and gently brushed his hand over his book bag. Inside, along with scattered papers and a quill were a neatly folded black cloak and a white mask. Not just any mask- the mask of a Death Eater. A shiver of excitement ran up the boy's spine as he felt the curves of the mask under the cloth of the bag. He was getting used to this feeling; one of mixed exhilaration and panic. Regulus focused on the exhilaration, of course, because if he thought too hard about the panic, all the feelings of regret and self-loathing would resurface. The others didn't panic…they realized that what they were doing had to be done. The Muggles deserved it, every one of them. Regulus sighed a little, just to himself, and then automatically berated himself for it. No regrets! He couldn't start thinking like Sirius- his parents already knew he was going to regret his steadfast loyalty to the mudbloods.

Regulus had received the mask a week earlier, as sort of a pre-initiation to the noble ranks of Voldemort's accomplices. He would probably receive the Mark soon- maybe even the next meeting! Regulus felt a swell of pride as he remembered the Dark Lord's words. He was to be the youngest Death Eater initiated ever. Ever! He had the potential to be better than….better than his brother. He could only imagine what his parents would say to that. They would probably apologize for the years of shoving him off to the side, focusing on Sirius alone for the fifteen years of Regulus' life. And beg to hear about the meetings, to hear about the Dark Lord. As Regulus waited patiently for the staircases to move to the right position, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness at the thought of Sirius' face when he found out. He would be devastated- the little brother he had spent so many years defending against their parents, the kid he had protected against all forms of evil. But it was too late for regrets now- he was practically a Death Eater already. He picked up his feet, held his head high, and focused on his walk again. Confidence. Cool, unrestrained confidence. He wasn't panicking, nor was he backing down. He was rather glad that everyone else was in the Great Hall dining right then, as he liked to make an entrance once his swagger was set.

He turned the last corner before the great double doors, and ran smack into a seventh year. Gryffindor, from the brief glance he got of red and gold as he fell on his back. Regulus' bag fell, and he moaned as his head hit the frigid stone floor. The klutz, whoever he was- stupid Gryffindor- was automatically fumbling with his own bag, trying to separate his fallen papers from Regulus', quietly offering apologies as he did so. He offered a hand to the still sprawled out Reggie, who sighed with over dramatic impatience and took the assistance. As soon as he was on his feet, he saw the figure more clearly- Remus Lupin. One of the three substitute brothers Sirius had made as a first year. Regulus tried not to feel jealous of Remus, because after all, Sirius had made every move to stay in some form of contact with his little brother, and they used to be quite close…until that year, when they began to go their separate ways. However, it was in no way Remus' fault. It was a bit like having a parent remarry, and watching your mum or dad get on with your stepparent's kids. It hurt, just to know that their affection for you was in any way detracted by this imposter child. Remus had been nothing but pleasant to Regulus through his years at Hogwarts, he had to forcibly remind himself, as the quiet seventh year hastily bent again to gather the last of the dropped materials. And that's when it happened.

Reg saw almost in slow motion the flick of Remus' wrist towards the cloak, the motion of his eyes as he spotted the brilliant ghostly white of the mask in contrast with the black cloak, and the striking realization as his whole body froze. And in the next moment, Regulus had flung himself over the objects, sweeping the cloak around the mask and stuffing the lot into his bag, flustered and terrified. Maybe Remus hadn't seen properly. He didn't see that well without his glasses, and he wasn't wearing glasses now. So maybe there wasn't a problem at all! Or maybe he had seen, but he misinterpreted. He stole a furtive glance at the older boy, whose face was deceptively calm.

"Sorry about that. Walking too fast, I guess," Remus said, in a quiet, steady tone that Regulus found himself dying to decipher. But he was also skilled at the art of subterfuge, after years of living with Sirius.

"No problem. I'm having trouble keeping everything together, as well. Had to bring some spare robes along in my bag, just in case I burn another pair in potions. Happened twice this week!" He grinned nonchalantly, and glanced at Remus directly again. Remus smiled thinly, and then turned and walked silently next to the younger student towards to the Great Hall. He turned once more to give Regulus a deeper, almost piercing glance, before sweeping off to sit with his friends.

Regulus, who hadn't realized he had been shaking, did not glance at the Gryffindor table, instead walking hurriedly towards the opposite end of the hall, clutching his bag a little tighter this time. He sat down at the end of Slytherin, trying to regain his composure. Why had he kept the mask in his bag?! Was he daft? And what had Remus seen? Was he telling Sirius? The boy gulped, drumming his fingers on the table for a minute. The motion was soothing- something steady, that he could focus his nervous energy on. And then he couldn't stand it any more. He glanced up at the sea of red and gold, searching for Remus. He was sitting next to James and that little pudge of a boy, Peter, but no Sirius in sight. Okay, so he hadn't come down yet. Giving his brother plenty of time to escape the Hall and get away. But as he watched, all three Gryffindors turned and looked at him anxiously. Or rather, not at him, but something next to him, coming closer. Something…or someone.

Regulus pursed his lips and took a deep, shuddering breath as he figured out what was happening. But before he had time to fully compose himself, a rough hand was on his upper arm, and a voice colder than ice was in his ear.

"Get up," Sirius said softly, but the volume did nothing to decrease the fear the boy experienced as he shot up from the table. Regulus' friends all shifted away from the older boy- despite the insults they might throw at the enemy House, no one was dumb enough to stand up to possibly the toughest, strongest, smartest kid in the school. As he was guided roughly out the double doors, Reg wished he could be one of his classmates- any one of them, it didn't matter. He would gladly spend a year living in a one-room house with his parents to avoid this confrontation. Regulus had hoped that the pincer-like grip on his forearm would diminish once they had exited the packed Great Hall, but Sirius only clamped down harder on his brother's right arm, his fingers turning white with the effort. He tried not to wince as his brother half-dragged him into an empty classroom, and bolted the door behind them. Sirius let go then, and Regulus barely had time to regain feeling in his arm before his brother rounded on him.

Sirius' charm and good looks were possibly the most fearful part about him. That might sound ridiculous, as Sirius' skill with a wand was something that even wizards years older than him would be wary of. But as someone who had grown up with the guy, Regulus knew only too well how intimidating his expression could be when he focused on it- how his usually casual demeanor could appear so very threatening at a moment's notice. Reg didn't think he had ever seen his brother so upset- certainly never at him. He had seen his brother go off on his opponents in a duel, had seen him get into screaming matches with his parents, but nothing quite compared to the look of utter fury plaguing the young man's features now. Fists clenched, Sirius first took a deep breath, and strode over to the quaking boy in front of him.

Regulus flinched back, but Sirius only put his hands on his brother's shoulders, albeit a tad harshly. "Are you all right?" he asked, the glint of anger in his expression still prominent, but mixed with a dose of genuine concern.

"Me? What…well, yeah, I mean…I…." Regulus stammered, trying to understand what was happening. "I'm alive. I haven't been tortured…or anything….although my arm hurts a lot." He timidly and hopelessly raised an eyebrow in the quirky way he always did to make his brother laugh. He was sure to have bruises on his arm for quite a while. But Sirius took what he said in a wholly other way. His eyes grew wide, and he dropped his hands from his shoulder, frantically pulling aside the younger boy's left sleeve to reveal…

He sighed in obvious relief. "You don't have the Mark! Dammit, Remus said you were…"

"I am." Regulus cut in, his voice shaking. He was terrified of his brother, yes, but he was dying to share his glory somehow- he had been holding it in for too long.

"You are what?" Sirius snapped dangerously, his eyes aflame again.

"A…a…you know... I mean, it isn't official or anything but-"

"But what, Reg? Regulus, LOOK AT ME. What do you MEAN?!"

Sirius was fed up with his brother's avoidance- he tore the boy's bag from his shoulder and emptied it on the ground. And he, too, saw the mask. His breath hitched in his throat.

"You're a Death Eater. It's true, then?" His voice was soft again, deadpan.

"No! No, not yet! But I will be. The mask is the first step towards being initiated. It won't be formal for a little while yet, but I'm….I'm the youngest to have ever-"

"So you aren't a Death Eater? You can get out of this?" He asked sharply, still speaking in a low tone.

Regulus sighed, feeling a bite of annoyance at his brother. His face was filled with concern, mixed with a fleeting emotion he couldn't quite place, but he couldn't understand why his brother wasn't at least a little more vocal. Did he care at all, one way or the other? He was acting as if his little brother had just broken one of their mother's vases, and he was exasperated with him, about to take the blame for it yet again.

"I suppose it would be possible, but of course I wouldn't. Like I said, I'm the youngest to-"

"YOU ARE FIFTEEN FUCKING YEARS OLD! OF COURSE YOU'RE THE FUCKING YOUNGEST! YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THE HELL YOU ARE GETTING YOURSELF INTO!!" Sirius exploded, grabbing his brother forcefully by the front of the robes and shaking him.

"WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?!" He yelled, clenching the robes tightly before releasing him and taking a step back. Before Regulus could even open his mouth to respond (he was a little shocked), a fist had collided solidly with his right temple, and he went down like a rock. He had never imagined Sirius could hit that hard. But he hardly had time to register the blinding pain, as Sirius was then on top of him, fists flying everywhere, connecting with his brother again and again. Finally, Regulus had the good sense to put his arms up against his assailant, but he knew he was already in more pain now than ever before. Where had Sirius learned to hit so hard?! And why had he never taught him to fight? Sirius was yelling at him as he swung, about being a moron and completely mental, and how he couldn't be trusted to make a single decision for himself ever again. Eventually, Sirius got up, taking a deep, steadying breath. Regulus stayed still for a moment, tense in case his brother decided to start whaling on him again. But then a hand pulled him to his feet.

Shakily, Regulus managed to mentally categorize his injuries, the most prominent being that first hit to the side of his face. It was swelling already, he was sure of it. But his entire body felt sore as he stood in front of his seething brother.

"Dammit, Regulus, what were you _thinking?_" he asked again, most of the fury trailing away from his tone as he stared at the boy. He was steadily becoming concerned now. Concerned, and probably just as terrified as Reggie was. Regulus wiped his bloody lip, glancing uneasily at Sirius.

"Mum and Dad always wanted me to…"

"Mum and Dad are cracked. I thought I got that through your thick skull a long time ago, but I guess I was wrong," Sirius said harshly. "You should never, ever go by what those two believe. They would sell their soul if it meant they could get into the best parties," Sirius barked, no trace of amusement in his stoic face. "And that's what becoming a Death Eater is. It's selling your soul, Reg. It's trading in your beliefs, your values for a lifetime of servitude. Is that really what you want?" His voice was much softer now, almost gentle.

Regulus straightened up, trying and failing to ignore the beginnings of bruises all over his body. " That isn't what joining the Dark Lord is. It's about commitment, and trust, and fami…" he paused at this word, his eyes growing wide. He was spewing what the other Death Eaters had told him- he was part of the community of the elite; the ones who would rule the wizarding world. He was part of their…family. He really couldn't blame Sirius for hitting him again after that. Sure, Regulus believed it, but it was bound to be devastating to his older brother.

"FAMILY?! YOUR FAMILY?" He exploded, and Regulus put up his hands instantly this time.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Jeez, Siri, I never meant for this to happen! I thought I would disappear, leave this place before you figured it out. I didn't want you to have to go through this…"

"No, neither one of us are going to go through this! Dammit, Regulus, I won't let you do this. You are not becoming a Death Eater." He said these last words with complete conviction, the kind that most people worshipped coming from him, because there was not a doubt in their minds that he was telling the truth. They followed him without question. Regulus had been the leader of this fan club for his brother, but suddenly, he found himself filled with another completely new feeling…uncertainty. What if his brother was wrong? The Dark Lord…Voldemort…(he shuddered) was as persuasive as Sirius. More so, even. He was stronger, he was more powerful. What if Sirius couldn't fix his problem this time? Was there even a problem?

He took a step back from Sirius, who was leveling him with a stern, piercing gaze that used to be reassuring and all-powerful. At any other time in his life, Regulus would have stepped into Sirius' welcoming power, allowed himself to be led in the direction Sirius saw fit. But not this time. It was finally time to get out of the fan club and start his own life. He began to see visions of himself at the Dark Lord's side, to once again see his parents fawning over him instead of Sirius. His doubts about the path he had chosen fizzled away as he stared at Sirius, and found himself completely beyond the young man's control.

He was in the power of someone else now. The Dark Lord would reward him for his unfailing loyalty, of that he was sure. And Sirius…he would have his friends. Hell, James was enough of a brother to him anyway. What did it matter if he didn't have his baby brother to boss around anymore? He would be okay, Sirius was always okay. And Reg would have his new family- a family of powerful, powerful wizards. He would just steer them away from Sirius, that was all. Regulus took another step back from his brother, a step towards the door. He took one last look at his dumfounded brother, who was staring after him in terror, and turned completely away from him. " I'm sorry," he said quietly. He was the servant of Lord Voldemort now.

FIN

**A/N: I was toying with the idea of having Reg accept his brother's help and get out of the predicament, but I wanted to remain somewhat sort of faithful to the actual plot. Kind of. Maybe I'll write an alternate ending, I don't know. Please give me your feedback!**


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